Jump Shot
by Halfjaw101
Summary: Francis hates Hunters. But what happens when the woman he falls in love with changes into one? Rated M for sexual content, language, intense violence and gore. Note that if this were a game it would be banned in Australia. 1st
1. The Meeting

_**Jump Shot is the first of a current trilogy. The second is Double Jump. Third is Hunter Punter. Enjoy reading them.**_

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I stretched, waking slowly, yawning. I blinked slowly, and uncurled, shoving a mass of blankets off of me. I got up and stumbled, falling back down, clutching my side. I'd forgotten. A little while ago I'd been pounce, and the bastard had not only clawed the shit out of my side, but had bit me a few times on the arms. I tried to look at the bite wounds, but I couldn't see a thing. I reached forward and felt resistance. I felt all around... I was in a room; a very small room. I searched for the door, and found it. I knocked on it hard. "Hello?" I called, surprised at how weak my voice sounded.

My vision blurred, but I shook my head and it cleared. "Hello!" I started pounding on the door. I was claustrophobic...and there was no doorknob on this side of the door.

"HELLO?" I stood up, found the opposite wall, then ran at the door. It held when I hit it. I backed up and hit it again, sliding down and crying, scared to near insanity.

I got up, backed up, and ran towards the door, running as hard as I could in the short distance.

Someone yanked the door open, and shouted when I barreled out and into him, causing him to stumble back. I started to fall, crying, but he caught me.

I jerked, and looked up. "I'm so, so sorry."

I stood on my own, then grimaced, clutched my side, and fell to my knees and one arm, groaning. The guy who'd opened the door for me dropped by my side. "You okay?"

I brought my hand away and stared at the blood. My bare arms and their multiple bite wounds only showed more of what condition I was in. A.k.a. in no condition to do anything. I shook and threatened to fall, but he supported me, looking almost afraid to touch me in case more wounds were hidden by my clothing. I'm sure there were, but they weren't major. He slowly pushed me into a sitting position, so I wouldn't collapse and cause more damage. "What the hell happened to you?"

I bit my lip and curled in on myself slightly. "Hunter," I spat. "Did pretty good, huh?"

The guy grimaced. "You could say that. Here, let me help... since whoever put you in there obviously put you in there to die."

He pulled out a first aid kit, and bandaged my arms first. He then did my side, lifting my shirt only to get the bandage underneath. When he was done, he looked at me. "Can you stand?"

I groaned and slowly did so, but I required assistance to stay up. I smiled weakly at him. "Thanks for helping."

He grunted and nodded. "No problem. Name's Francis. You got one?"

I took his hand and shook it. He grasped mine gently, as if I'd shatter if he held too hard. "I'm Jayci. Nice to meet you, Francis."

He grunted again. "You can, uh, stick with us if you want."

He started walking away, and I slowly followed. He paused and waited for me to catch up, and helped me. "I'm pretty sure the others wouldn't mind some more help."

I nodded. "I'd like to stay... I'll need to if I'm goin' to live."

Francis nodded, still holding my arm. He looked huge compared to me. At least a foot taller... and at least two feet thicker. I looked like a toothpick, but looks can be deceiving. When someone poked me all they poked was muscle. I had only the necessary fat in my body. Francis, though, looked like he had a little bit of both - tons of muscle, a smidgen of excess fat. He looked intimidating, not someone to piss off.

I noticed three other people. An old dude with a beret. A veteran? Then there was the most _blah,_ normal-looking black guy that looked young - older than me but young. And then a girl who seemed my age. She was pretty, but beaten and tired-looking. She smiled softly when she noticed I was looking at her. "Alright, everyone," Francis started. "This is... um... what was your name again?"

I smiled. "I'm Jayci."

He nodded. "Right, this is Jayci. Jayci, this is Louis," he pointed to the _blah_ black guy. "Zoey," he motioned towards the pretty young girl. "And Grandpa Bill." The army veteran scowled. "Just Bill," he corrected him. "Only Francis can get away with the Grandpa bit because he's the only one that could take me on and maybe win."

Francis chuckled softly, a glint in his eyes. Zoey's smile warmed. "Nice to meet you, Jayci."

Louis nodded. "Yeah, a real pleasure. I was wondering what Francis was doing over there."

Francis scowled. "Even if she hadn't been there, my doings are none of yer business, Manager."

Louis frowned and shrugged, huffing. Francis rolled his shoulder, and it popped. He pumped his shotgun, then walked off. "I'll be waiting outside, by the trains."

I watched him, frowning softly. Louis scoffed. "Never mind him. He can be an ass sometimes."

I frowned, then followed Francis, picking up a shotgun on the way. Louis frowned. "What'd I say?"

I walked out, and spotted Francis. I walked forward a little, then stopped, leaning over towards my injured side. I pressed the butt of the shotgun on the ground and leaned against it. Francis turned around. "You okay?"

My stomach clenched and burned. I grimaced. "Been better."

He nodded and leaned against the train car. "They get on my nerves sometimes. Mostly that Louis. Never Zo... Zoey's cool." He smiled softly and tapped the barrel of his shotgun against his knee.

I smiled softly and nodded, then grimaced, pressed an arm against my gut and fell to my knees, still holding the shotgun. Its grip on the ground gave out, and it shot to the side, slamming my fingers down under it. But that pain was pale and distant compared to what was going on in my gut.

Francis hurried to my side. "Jayci, are you okay?"

I shook my head and bit my lip, splitting it, curling in on myself. I felt Francis' hand on my back. "Jayci?"

I waved him away. "Give me a second... I'll be fine in a sec."

Just like I said, a few moments later and I was trying to pull myself onto my feet. Francis put his hands on my sides and helped me up. I leaned off to one side, stumbled, then leaned towards the other side and stumbled in that direction. I righted myself, still holding my gut, and quickly leaned down and picked my shotgun up, using that to keep me up. I groaned and threatened to fall again, but Francis held me up. "Maybe we should stay here..."

I grimaced and waved him away. "No, no, I'm alright. I won't slow you down... and even if I do fall behind... you don't gotta wait for me."

Francis frowned softly, looking at me. I smiled my best persuasive smile, hiding the gut-wrenching pain behind it. It felt like someone was scrambling my insides and pouring acid in at the same time. What the fuck was happening to me?

The others walked out. "Jayci?" It was Louis talking. "What's wrong?"

I pointed to the bandages on my side. He nodded, as if that's all the explanation he needed. It probably was, even though that wasn't the problem. I stood there for a few moments, concentrating on breathing. "Alright, I'm good. Are we leaving?"

Francis frowned, and was about to say something when Bill nodded. "Yes, young lady, we are."

Francis glared after him as the old army veteran passed, and clenched his fist, mouthing what looked like threats. Zoey walked past, then reached up and gibbs-slapped him. "If you're going to threaten Bill, do it to his face."

Bill turned around and stared at him, arching a brow. Francis looked helpless. I interrupted. "He's only worried about me. He's thinking I should stay behind and rest..."

Bill and Zoey frowned softly. "That is smart... and a good idea. We could all use the rest, and you're in no condition to move much."

I shook my head. "No, I'm fine. I can walk." I did so without problem. "See?"

Francis and Bill scrutinized me. I smiled reassuringly. "I'm fine. I'll rest at the next safehouse. Okay?"

Francis shook his head. "Too far. Anything could happen between here and there."

I frowned at him. "And when did you become my dad?"

He opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and settled with glaring at me. "Francis, I can make it to the next safehouse without dropping dead, getting pounced or tongued... only reason I got pounced this time was because I was telling Sill to shut it, and didn't hear him. Trust me, I won't get hurt... much."

He looked at me for a while, then sighed and nodded. "Very well. Just don't do anything crazy or you're being carried the rest of the way."

I gave him a weird look. "You wouldn't dare."

He glared. "Wanna make a bet?"

I braced myself, then groaned and stopped, holding my side. He looked at me. "See? You're in no condition to move."

He dipped, pressed his shoulder against my gut and lifted up, lifting me in the fire-fighter's position. I gasped and struggled. "Put me down! Goddamn it, Francis, put me down!"

He started walking back into the building we'd been in. I pounded on his shoulder, and he grunted. "Francis!"

Bill was pointing the M16 at him. "Put the young lady down."

Francis turned around and stared at him. He then crouched, set my feet on the ground, and gently pushed me off his shoulder. Before he could do anything, I drew my arm back and let a punch fly, hitting him in the jaw. It knocked him onto his ass. I leaned down and looked at his astonished face. "Don't. Do that. Again."

Francis blinked, totally amazed that I'd been able to knock him down. He stood up and caught my arm. He squeezed gently. "Jesus, did you do nothing but work out for fun?"

I frowned and yanked my arm away. "No. But I did work out a lot."

I grabbed my shotgun again, and some ammo, then loaded and readied it. "We leaving?"

Everyone nodded. That'd always happened to me. I'd be angry, and then the anger turned into strength. This, though, was actually good timing. So we headed out. And, to my annoyance, Francis kept a watchful eye on me. I beat more zombies down then I shot, I think, and each one I was imagining as Francis. Finally, I turned towards him, my face and torso splattered with blood. "See something you like?"

He gave me a blank stare. "Maybe."

I scowled. "Then take a picture. I hate being watched."

I slammed the butt of my gun into a zombie's head and grimaced as it caused the bandaging to rub my wound. I groaned softly as I lowered my arms, but quickly masked the pain with anger. One thing I was glad about was there were no specials around. I really didn't need them.

Francis whirled and blasted the shotgun in his hands. I _felt _the pellets whiz by. I paused and turned as a zombie fell dead, then gave him my deadliest glare. "You almost fuckin' shot me!"

Francis looked at me nonchalantly. "Key word there is almost."

I wrung my shotgun. "This is your neck, Francine. Watch it."

Francis glared at me. "What'd you just call me?"

I smirked. "I called you Francine. That's your name, isn't it?"

Francis' glare got madder. "Watch it, girl," he said, jabbing a finger at me. "You don't want me mad at you. I don't hesitate to 'accidentally' friendly fire."

I stared at him, my mouth agape. I kicked a lone rock at him, hard, and 'somehow' managed to land it in his crotch. He cried out and clutched it, falling to his knees, then looked up at me, scowling. I blinked, trying my hardest not to laugh. "Believe it or not, I wasn't aiming for there."

Francis fisted his hand and shook it at me, mouthing threats, still scowling. I surprised him by walking over and helping him up. "Come on, you big baby. A baby kick is no way worse than a bump on a motorcycle."

He looked at me. "Bike seats are padded. I'm not."

I rolled my eyes. "Baby." I tugged him up.

He shrugged me off gently. "Let's get going."

I watched him. "I hate people like that..."

About half-way through, my anger-strength ran out. One hit by a Common Infected and I was down, struggling to get up. True to his word, Francis came over and hoisted me up. He was more gentle now than before, but I still didn't like it. I struggled, trying to push myself out of his arms, but he held me tightly. "Stop squirmin' and actually help. Use your damn shotgun."

I frowned, mad at the fact that what he sad was probably something I should do. So I blasted zombies that got too near us, angry but not stronger. Most of my anger was towards Francis. Louis was right; he _was_ an ass sometimes. But he was a considerate ass, so that made up for it.

I made him put me down when the safehouse was within sight. I started running towards it, and heard a Hunter's scream. I pivoted, caught the Hunter in the jaw with my shotgun, and threw him to the ground. I blasted his face in, then continued, opening and going in to the safehouse. I held the door open, then closed it once the other four were in.

Francis looked at me. "How the hell did you do that?"

I smirked. "I told you I wouldn't get pounced. I have good hearing, and can tell where a sound is coming from."

He arched a brow, then shrugged and reloaded his shotgun. I smirked again, then reloaded my shotgun next to him. I elbowed him gently in the gut, smiling. "You were pretty good out there, too, until you decided to carry me."

He smiled at me. "I told you I'd carry you."

I smiled, then looked in his eyes. Something... different, was in them. I turned to ask Zoey something, but Francis grabbed my shoulder, whirled me around, leaned down and pressed his lips against mine. I squealed softly in surprise and stiffened, then slowly closed my eyes and loosened. The kiss seemed to last forever. When he finally pulled away, I felt myself follow for a centimeter. I looked up at him, my vision not the clearest. What I saw was a soft smile, and that different look in his eyes had a name: 'affection'.

I blinked a few times, still looking at him. I still wasn't the happiest with him, so I let the anger out and scowled. "Thanks a lot... now I don't remember what I was going to ask Zoey."

Francis frowned softly, and I saw, for a split-second, hurt in his eyes. Then it disappeared, and he scowled back. "Whatever."

He walked away, clutching his shotgun tight enough that his knuckles were white. I sighed, my eyes moist as I watched him walk away. Zoey walked over. "You... wanted to ask me something?"

I frowned and looked down. "I don't remember," I muttered.

I walked after Francis. He was leaning against the wall, staring out the safehouse door. "Francis, I'm -"

He turned, leaned down, and kissed me again. I blinked, and he pulled away quickly, looking away. "Sorry," he mumbled. "You were saying?"

"-Sorry. I... I'm sorry I snapped. I didn't... I'm not really mad... anymore. You know?"

Francis smiled softly and looked at me, leaning against the wall again. "Yeah, I think I do."

He looked out the door again, sighing. I took a step closer. "Am I forgiven?"

He grinned. "Maybe."

I smiled. "Good enough for me."

Francis smiled, then gently held my chin, making me look up at him. "Now, can I kiss you without interrupting you or having you snap at me when I'm done?"

I smiled. "Will it be better than the last two?"

He arched a brow but grinned. "I don't know. Not if it's still one-sided."

He leaned down, and I rose onto my toes. Our lips met, and both of us closed our eyes. My foot rose slightly, and his arms wound around my back, holding me to him. I slowly wrapped both arms around his neck, and he smiled. We took a quick breath and pressed together again.

Louis smiled softly. "Looks like Francis finally found someone. Good pair for him, too."

Bill chuckled, watching us. Zoey smiled warmly, tears in her eyes. She then stretched and yawned. "I'm tired... I'm off to bed."

Bill and Louis nodded, and she left. Louis yawned a while later. "I think I'm going to hit the sack."

Bill nodded again. "Good-night, Louis."

Louis smiled, patted the old veteran on the shoulder, then laid down near Zoey, who was already asleep. Bill leaned against the supplies table, watching us.

Francis smiled and leaned up against the wall. I pushed against him, leaning on his chest. He slid down, and I ended up on his lap, sort of straddling it. He reached over, our faces now even, and pressed his lips against mine. I pressed back, and smiled when I felt his tongue against my lips. I parted them and welcomed his tongue, rubbing mine against his. His beard tickled me, making kissing him all the better.

He held me gently, rubbing his tongue affectionately against mine, exploring my mouth. I explored his in turn. We pulled apart to breathe and I yawned. He kissed me gently, quickly, then pulled back. "Let's go to bed."

I pouted. He kissed me again. "We can continue in the morning. Besides; you said you'd rest here, remember?"

I glared at him playfully. "Oh, very well then." I kissed him back, then went to stand. "Where you goin'?"

I looked at him. "To bed...?"

He opened his arms, offering himself as a 'bed.' I smiled and sat back down in his lap. He slid further down the wall until we were lying down, me on top of him. I slid off to the side, and he cradled me against him, between his arm and his side. I smiled and laid my head on his chest and closed my eyes, sighing. He slammed his fist against the wall, and the lights flickered off. Last conscious thing I saw was Francis' smiling face.


	2. New Jumper

I slept pretty well that night. Francis was unbelievably comfortable. Now I was rather glad he carried around that 'smidgen' of excess fat. I wasn't completely ready for what happened when I woke though.

I opened my eyes, blinked a few times, then shrieked and covered my eyes. They hurt; they hurt so fuckin' bad! What was making them hurt? I opened my eyes again and uncovered them, and noticed that sunlight filled the room. My eyes felt like they were burning, so I covered them and shrieked again. "Sunlight hurts, don't it?"

I looked up, my eyes watering, and hurting, hurting. Bill was sitting on the supplies table, his M16 in his lap. His face remained grim, but he lifted the M16 and pointed it in my direction. It wasn't directly at me, but I knew that if he pulled the trigger, they following hail of bullets would hit me. "Good," he muttered softly. "Sons of bitches like you don't deserve peace."

He took aim. I threw my arms up, a futile attempt to protect myself, then stopped and stared at my hands. Claws. Growing out of the tips of my fingers... no... those _were _the tips of my fingers. I shrieked again as a ray of sunlight peeked in and hit me directly in the face. I fell to the ground, writhing, my eyes smoking. Bill just sat there, watching me. I attempted to drag myself into darkness, where the sunlight couldn't get me, but he got up, came over, and kicked me back. I covered my eyes and screamed. I instantly knew what his problem was.

I was a Hunter.

Francis woke, and saw me writhing. He scrambled up to help, but Bill shoved him back. "Damn it, Bill!" Francis went to help me again, but Bill clipped him on the side of the head with the butt of the M16. Francis grabbed the gun, and fought against Bill, eventually winning and shoving him to the ground.

The world went black for a while. When I opened my eyes again, my vision was completely fucked up. Not only was it slightly tunneled, but when I moved to look somewhere it else it blurred until I stopped moving. Then I caught sight of Francis. "Francis?"

Tears were falling down his face, and he had his autoshotty pointed at me. Zoey was in the background, being held back by Bill and Louis. She was screaming something, but I didn't hear it. The only thing I was paying attention to was Francis and the trembling shotgun about a foot from my face. I started crying. "Francis, please. Don't do this. Remember last night... please don't do this!"

Suddenly, Bill fell to the ground, unconscious. Zoey ran forward and tackled Francis, wrestling for the shotgun. Louis ran to the door and threw it open. "Jayci!"

I scrambled up just as Francis threw Zoey to the ground. He shot at me three times, but I was amazingly fast. Only half of the last blast got me, but I was already running. Three pellets buried themselves into my leg and back as I ran, my eyes squinted nearly shut against the searing pain of the sun's light. I bunched my legs when I neared a building and jumped, throwing myself into the third-story window. I crashed through it, tumbled as I hit wrong, and fell off the edge. There was no middle to this building. I landed hard on the first floor, and stood, stumbling to the side and falling back down. I looked out the window and saw Francis running towards the building I was in, reloading on the way. He looked mad. I shoved a hand through the window. "Francis, stop! Please, just stop!"

He raised the shotgun and fired. I squealed and dropped, the blast obliterating the remains of the window. I ran, crying, and jumped again. I reached the third story and clutched at the edge, struggling to pull myself up. I didn't do it fast enough. He jumped in through the window, aimed up, and fired, hitting me. I screamed in pain and dropped, hanging on with one hand. I saw him pause as he looked at me. I let go, and fell.

For some reason that escaped me, he dropped the shotgun and ran forward, grunting and stumbling as he caught me. I opened my eyes, confused as to why it didn't hurt, then screamed and struggled, trying to get away from him. But he held me tightly until I fell limp in his arms, crying. All of the shotgun wounds were almost healed already. He looked at me, tears falling down his cheeks again. "I'm... I-I..."

I growled, then pulled my arm back and punched him again. He dropped me, and I landed in a crouched position. He stumbled and fell on his ass. I jumped and landed on him, growling. "You know, I'm seriously thinking about clawing you. Put a hole in you for every hole you put in me."

Francis flinched and held his breath, closing his eyes. I sighed. "But I'm not going to. I'm not a mindless killer. I give people second chances."

He opened his eyes and looked at me. At my pained, watering, smoking eyes. At my pained and bloody face. He then wrapped his arms around me. I let him. "Don't even think about kissing me, though. It'll be a long time before I allow that again."

Francis nodded, and let go. I got off of his chest and turned away, wiping tears away. I walked out of the building, pulling off a normal hop through the window. Zoey handed me my shotgun, and I took it, smiling. "Thanks."

I paused and stiffened, hiding behind Francis, as Bill walked out, rubbing the back of his head. "Which one of you knocked me out?"

Zoey frowned. "I did. To stop Francis."

Bill sighed, and looked at Francis. "Did you get it?"

I growled loudly and walked out from behind Francis, my shotgun by my leg. "Do I look got?"

Bill gripped his M16. I raised my shotgun, but Francis stopped me. He stepped in front of me slightly and grabbed the barrel of my shotgun. He prevented me from shooting, and stood in the way for Bill. Bill scowled.

I sighed and let go of my shotgun, and started walking towards Bill. Francis grabbed at my arm, but I evaded. I stopped, pressed against the barrel of Bill's M16. "Look. I'm not trying to kill you. You're the only one trying to kill someone. I don't want to attack; I just want to be with Francis, and maybe find some friends in this group. I'm not a mindless killing machine like the other zombies. Hell, I'm not even a normal Hunter; I'm a fuckin' girl." I sighed and held my hands up. "If you want to shoot me, go ahead. But I'm not worth shooting."

Bill looked like he was really thinking it over, then sighed tiredly and lowered his M16, pulling it away from my gut to do so. I smiled softly. "See? Wasn't so hard."

Bill looked up at me. "I'm sorry, young lady. I just look out for the team."

I nodded. "I understand. Army does that to you." I smiled and gently laid a claw on his shoulder. "And my name's Jayci, not 'young lady'."

Bill nodded. I walked back over to Francis and took my shotgun. "If I'm forgiven for punching you again, you're forgiven completely."

I grinned. Francis chuckled and wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close. "You're forgiven."

He leaned down and we kissed quickly. He moved, then turned, and a flicker of sunlight hit my eyes. I screamed and dropped the shotgun, covering my eyes, and dropped backwards, landing hard on my back. Smoke rose from between my fingers as I screamed and writhed. Francis dropped next to me. "Jayci? Jayci!"

Bill looked at me, frowning, and it clicked. "Get her out of the sunlight!"

Francis picked me up and ran back into the building. He walked into a corner, then sat down, cradling me in his lap. I stopped writhing and screaming, then lowered my hands. My eyes were watery but dry-looking. I leaned my head against his chest. "Ow."

He frowned and gently stroked my hair as I slowly blinked my eyes back to life. I then wiped them with my hands, causing more pain somehow. I groaned and sighed, dropping my hands. As tears fell, Francis took his thumb and gently wiped them away, or dabbed at them with his shirt. He kissed my forehead gently. "Maybe that's why Hunters wear hoodies."

I frowned. "I admit I'm not the girliest woman you ever did see, but I am /not/ wearing one of those ugly hoodies. Besides... I don't want to look anything like them."

Francis thought for a second. "Hold on. Wait here."

He gently set me down, then ran off. He returned about three minutes later, a first aid kit in his hands. He opened it, then took out the gauze. "Wrap your eyes in this."

I frowned. "Then how am I supposed to see?"

"I'll show you." He got behind me, then started wrapping the gauze loosely around my eyes until I couldn't see.

"I can't see, Francis."

He sighed, and moved away. "Growl. Like a Hunter."

I did so, and suddenly, I got a picture of Francis crouching in front of me, his shotgun slightly raised. I growled again, longer, and the image flickered as he moved, like a flip-book. I sucked my breath in and screamed. An image of the whole room appeared, his figure flickering as he walked back. I rose. "No, Francis... don't..." I reached for him, but the image didn't give depth. He was too far away.

Francis walked forward and took my hand, pulling me up into his arms. I growled softly, sounding more like a purr, and watched his smile go soft. He leaned down and kissed me. All I needed to do in order to 'close my eyes' was stop making sounds. But I didn't. And I watched Francis' face as we kissed. When we pulled apart I giggled, both from the tickle of his Van Dyke and the peacefulness of his face during the kiss. He looked at me. "What's so funny?"

I reached up and kissed him gently. "You."

I pulled away, then growled and swung my head, locating my shotgun and grabbing it. "Where're we going from here?"

Bill pointed in the direction that I'd originally been running. "More that way."

I nodded and started walking, then let Bill pass and waited for Francis to catch up. I laced my fingers with his as we walked, humming softly, smiling. "You're in an awfully cheery mood, considering you just had two people trying to kill you."

I smiled. "And one of them almost succeeded. But no one's trying to kill me now, and I'm with you. What's not to be cheery about?"

A Hunter's growl split the air. Francis let go of my hand and gripped his shotgun. "That."

I frowned softly, then gave him my shotgun. "Hold that for me, will you?"

He took it. "What are you going to do?"

I growled softly, crouched, then threw myself at the building to the side. I dug my claws into the material, then gripped with my toes - also clawed - and started climbing. When I got to the roof, I saw the other Hunter getting ready to pounce. I crouched, and screamed a challenge at him. He paused, then turned towards me, sniffing. He then screamed a return challenge, and launched at me. He hit, and we flew off the roof, eight stories high.

I flipped us, clawing his face, and he hit the ground first. He put his feet against my gut, bunched his legs against his chest and shoved, throwing me off of him. I flew, hit, and rolled. I popped back up into a crouch and screamed, furious.

Francis raised both shotguns to fire just as we threw ourselves at each other. He pulled it back just as he squeezed the trigger, the blast flying into the air. "Goddamn it..."

I threw the Hunter at the ground, but he popped up like it was nothing and jumped at me again. We rolled, clawing at each other, growling and screaming like warring dogs. I gripped his hoodie, then jumped, slamming him against a wall. He screamed furiously, then pushed of the wall and slammed me into the ground. I growled and cuffed his head, then rolled us. He struggled to push off the ground, and ended up causing us to roll closer to Francis and the others. He pushed me off, and I slid between Francis' legs. I found purchase in the ground, and jumped back at him. He jumped at me, and we met in midair, crashing together and falling to the ground, rolling more.

He shoved me off again. I flew and hit a support strut or pole and fell, out of breath. He jumped and landed on me, and started clawing. I rolled and struggled, but he ended up on me again, on my back. He reached forward and grabbed the bandaging around my eyes and tore it off. The sunlight hit my eyes full blast. I screamed in pain, and struggled harder, shrugging him off, closing my eyes.

I jumped at him, shoved my claws deep into his chest, then stood, braced my legs, and threw him at a tilling machine. He hit just right, and a tilling spoke slid cleanly through his chest. He screamed and struggled, bleeding out. I jumped and landed carefully, using the spokes to stay above his flailing claws. I timed it carefully, my eyes nearly shut, then jabbed at him with my claws, tearing two jagged lines into his neck. He jerked and gasped, wheezing, his breathing horribly gurgly as blood filled his windpipe. I saw the whites of his eyes as they widened fully, then rolled up as the severed artery combined with his inability to breathe killed him. He laid still, hanging on the tilling spoke like an ill-used jacket.

I groaned softly, then fell of the tilling spokes, landing on the hard ground. Francis ran over and pulled me into his lap, sliding my bandage-wrap back on. I sighed, then growled softly, seeing Francis' face. It was wet with tears and looked worried. I reached up and touched his cheek. "Hey, I'm fine. I'm not made of glass. I can withstand a few falls."

Francis smiled softly and nodded. I went to stand, but he held me. I frowned. "Francis, let me go."

Francis looked at me, then put his hand over my chest, cupping me slightly. "What do you feel?"

I froze. "Your hand on my breasts."

He rolled his eyes. "How about skin-on-skin? You don't have much of a shirt left, Jayci."

I paused, then looked down, growling. Aside from his massive hand cupping my breasts, I saw almost nothing. "Not much of a shirt left means there's still a little bit of fabric left. I don't see any on my chest. Or front, for that matter."

Francis pulled his hand away, and I almost sighed disappointedly. His hand there felt good. Then he started wrapping something around my chest. "It appears you're going to appear slightly flat-chested until we find you a shirt."

I smiled. "Good thinking. But isn't this a waste of a first aid kit?"

He shook his head. "No. It's the same one that bandaged your eyes. It's an extra."

I nodded. "Oh. Okay."

I let him help me up when he was done, and he kissed me gently, then handed me my shotgun. I smiled. "Thanks."

He nodded. We head out again without incident until the end. I froze, feeling the ground rumble, and looked around. Francis paused, looking back at me. "Jayci? What-?"

"Tank!"

I jumped at Francis and knocked him down just as a car flew over us, scraping my back. He sighed. "Oh my god... thank you." I nodded, then grabbed my shotgun and got up. I jumped at the Tank. "JAYCI!"

I hooked my claws into the repulsive hulk's shoulder and flipped up onto them. He roared in anger and reached back to grab me, but I dodged and started emptying shell after shell into his back and head. Just as he finally found a purchase on my leg, he died. I gasped slightly as he pulled me down, but I caught myself, pulling my leg out of his hand.

Bill and Louis were staring at me. I frowned softly, growling to get a better look. "What?"

Louis blinked. "What are you, Wonder Woman?"

I shook my head. "No. I'm just me. And I'm protective."

They nodded. Zoey grinned. Francis ran up. "Jayci... don't _do_ that! What if he'd grabbed you before he died?"

I shrugged. "Then I would've continued shooting until he died. I told you just half an hour ago I'm not made of glass. I'm tougher than I look. I lived through the Hunter and being thrown off an eight story building; being shot by you, and now the Tank. I'm a big girl, daddy... I can take care of myself."

Francis sighed and looked at me for a while. I smiled, then started squirming uncomfortably. "Let's, uh... let's get going."

Everyone nodded, and we hurried to the safehouse. Turned out the safehouse was a connection of five rooms: one giant middle one, one room off to one side, and three on the other. It was dark, and we were all tired. Running and killing and fighting was very trying. Bill and Louis went into two of the rooms, off to bed. Zoey stayed a while, treating some of her wounds, then went into the last room on the one side, between Bill and Louis' rooms.

Which left us all alone.

I pressed tightly against Francis, leaning up and kissing him hard. He smiled and held me, kissing me back. We stumbled into the lone room on the far side.

It was going to be a fun night.


	3. Two Lovers

We stumbled into the room, and hit the far wall. I pressed against him, and we kissed passionately. His hands wandered, under the gauze wrapping, gently gripping my breasts.

I held his head, then slid my hands down to his shoulders. I jumped slightly, wrapping my legs tightly around his waist, our groins pressed together. He was hard - he wanted me as badly as I wanted him.

I held his head and kissed him deeply, rubbing our tongues together. "Francis," I gasped, moaning as his hands played with my breasts. "I want you... and I want you _now_."

I unwrapped my legs from his waist and dropped down. I stripped my clothes off in a flash, and helped him with his. As soon as his member was revealed I grasped it in a claw, rubbing the head gently. He moaned, kissing me gently as I fondled him lovingly and knowingly. I rubbed him for a while, then gasped, jerked, and moaned when I felt his fingers gently touch my area. I gripped his shoulders and climbed up him to make it easier for him to explore me, gripping his body with my knees to stay up.

Our faces were even. As he fingered me, I kissed him, trembling in pleasure. I started moaning more. He reached up with his free hand, dug his thumb under my bandage-wrap, and pulled it off. I could see his face; he could see my eyes. He stopped fingering me after I started squirming and crying out. Then he cupped my face and kissed me deeply. Not being able to stand being apart any longer, I gripped his shoulders and slowly lowered myself. I felt him press against where it was supposed to go, and lowered myself more. He slid into me. I stopped and wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling me all the way on to him. I moaned loudly as he filled me, arching my back. I then slowly started moving, sliding up and down, moaning with each movement.

Francis moaned softly, our lips together constantly. His hands stayed on my breasts as I slowly rose and fell in front of him.

My breathing started accelerating, and so did my sliding. I pressed my body against him, rubbing along his chest as I moved. He moaned softly into our kiss, and started moving with me. After a moment, we started moving faster. I started growling when I was climbing towards a climax, and screamed when I reached it. I panted, slowly coming to a stop. I wrapped my arms around his neck and laid my head on his chest, him still deep inside me, catching my breath. We both were still hungry for more.

I smiled, and pulled myself off of him, moaning as I did so. I then climbed down his body, gripping his arms, careful not to dig my claws in. I lowered my legs until my toes touched the ground, and crouched in front of him. He looked down at me, arched a brow. I smirked, then reached up, opened my mouth, and pushed it over his member. I pushed all the way, then backed off before I gagged, and concentrated on the head, tonguing it, sucking on him.

Francis moaned and fisted his hands. I let go of one of his arms and wrapped my claw around his shaft, my lips still around the head. I rubbed him gently, sucking and tonguing. It wasn't very long before I felt him let go again. He came in my mouth. I smiled and swallowed, licking my lips, then him.

I still wanted more, and he wasn't done either. He slid to his knees and kissed me. I climbed onto him, and slid onto him again, wrapping my legs around his waist.

He lowered us until we were lying down, him on top of me, then began moving. I couldn't believe how gently this man could be. He moved quickly, but gently, like I was made of glass. He was low enough that our bodies touched and rubbed together, but was holding himself to where he wasn't fully lying on me. And his kissing made me feel like a porcelain doll, pressing deep and lovingly but still gently.

I slid my arms under his onto his back, and rubbed him gently. I moaned softly as he moved, his lips against my neck, his beard rubbing gently against my skin. Suddenly, _his_ neck was at _my_ lips. I kissed him a few times, licked a spot, and bit, marking him. He was mine.

He jerked and grimaced, but continued moving. I licked at the fresh bite wound until it stopped bleeding. I started breathing faster. _We _started breathing faster. But he kept the gentle loving pace. I kissed him gently where I'd bit him, the fresh wound looking like a hieroglyph for 'river'. He moaned, pushed harder a few times, then stopped. I screamed softly as he came deep inside me, as I broke into climax. I shuddered and moaned as wave after wave of pleasure rocked through me. I fell limp, breathing hard, sweating.

He leaned to the side, pulling out of me. I moaned again. He laid next to me, his body slick with sweat as well.

I shivered, cold. He felt it, and gathered me up against him, holding me in his arms. I laid my head on his chest, and closed my eyes. Not too much later, the both of us were asleep. Asleep, naked, and together

The perfect three.


	4. Growing

I don't think I've ever slept as well as I did that night. But I woke early... too early. I was still lying on Francis' chest. I smiled, and sretched, my hand lightly brushing Francis' groin. I frowned, then remembered, and grinned. I stroked it gently, then paused, hearing knocking. "Yes?"

"Can I come in?" I heard Zoey ask softly.

I blinked. "I... guess... if you don't mind seeing us naked."

There was a pause, and the door opened. Sunlight glared in. I covered my eyes and screamed. Zoey hurried in and shut the door. "Sorry!" She then turned and paused. "Whoa... creepy. But cool."

I frowned. "What?"

She sat down by the door and smiled. "Your eyes. They're... not glowing, but..."

I arched a brow. "Yes...?"

"They're like a cat's eyes. Gathering all the ligh available in super-dialated pupils, giving the illusion of a glow."

I blinked. "Really. Cool."

Zoey smiled. "How well can you see?"

"Like day."

Zoey nodded. "That's cool. Well, everyone else except for your loverboy here is awake now. Get dressed... come out, get something to eat." She stood to leave. "And if you and Francis decide to do anything once he wakes up... make sure it's quiet and quick. The rest of us don't want to stay here too much longer."

She winked, leaving me blushing like Rudolph, then went outside as quick as she could. I then laid down, back into Francis' arms, his chest my pillow. I reached down and stroked his groin again, and he smiled, moaning and opening his eyes. "I guess everyone heard us last night."

I grinned softly, and kissed him. "Mornin', sleepy. And I guess so, too. I know I got pretty loud at points."

He smiled and kissed me back. "Who can blame you? I sure can't."

He kissed me once again, pushing his tongue against my lips. I sucked on his tongue gently, a claw on his face, closing my eyes. He kept our lips together, and put a hand on one of my breasts. I gasped and moaned softly, his hand cold. I sighed, then reached down and grabbed his wrist, removing his hand. He frowned and pulled back, looking at me. "What?"

I lowered my gaze. "The others want to leave... and we'd end up taking too long and someone might walk in." I smiled, trying to lighten my rejection.

He grinned. "That wouldn't be good. Later?"

I nodded and kissed him gently. "Later."

I then got up, but not without stroking him again. He chuckled and laid his head back. "Do that too much more and you might not have a choice."

I grinned, then found our clothes. I tossed him his. "Get dressed, biker."

He smiled and started getting dressed. I shimmied into my panties and cut-offs, then frowned. I'd forgotten: no top. "Fuck..."

Francis frowned and stood. "What?"

I growled angrily. "I forgot I don't have a shirt... and I don't really want to wear the bandaging."

He walked up behind me and wrapped his arms around me, pressing his lips against my shoulder, then my neck. "Well, I don't think you want to run around half-naked, am I right?"

I growled again, then turned my head and kissed his cheek. "Unfortunately, you are. But what the fuck am I supposed to wear?"

He sighed. "My shirt?"

I shook my head. "No. One, it's too big, and two... it's your shirt for a reason."

Francis chuckled. "I suppose."

I felt him hum softly in thought, his face still against my neck. There was a knock on the door. "Almost... uh, ready, you two?"

"Yes!" I called. "Just trying to find a shirt... or something..."

"What happened to the bandaging?"

"I am _not_ wearing that again." I sighed and growled, looking at the recklessly strewn gauze. "I hate you," I growled at it, my eyes narrowed. Another knock. "You're in luck, Jayci. My room had a closet in it, complete with clothes. Here."

She opened the door a crack and tossed in something. I caught it and looked at it. It wasn't much, but it was a shirt, and it'd cover me until I found something more... me. "Thank you, Zoey."

"No problem." I put the shirt on. My stomach was showing. "Well... at least it covers my breasts..."

Francis grinned mischievously. "No matter how unfortunate that is."

I hit him playfully, then absent-mindedly reached for the door. Francis shut it before I could open it, then held out the bandage wrap. I groaned in embarrassment and yanked it on. "Thanks... that would've been bad."

He nodded, smiled and kissed me, then opened the door and walked out, me following him. Zoey waved us over. "We actually have food, believe it or not. Not really breakfast food... but it's better than nothing."

She smiled. The food on the table was more like lunch food, sandwiches and hotdogs, that sort of thing. Francis picked himself a hotdog. "Hotdog or sandwich, Jayci?"

I shook my head. "Not hungry."

Francis turned and gave me a look. "Jayci... you gotta eat something. Who knows when we'll get more actual food."

I shook my head again. He continued giving me the look until I started squirming uncomfortably. "Fine... hotdog..."

Francis smiled, then handed me back a hotdog. "Ketchup?"

I shook my head. "No."

I then took the actual hotdog out of the bun, and started eating it, then stopped after a second and sampled the bread. It tasted really weird and thick, but surprisingly sweet. I replaced the hotdog in the bun and ate the two together, sighing softly. I really wasn't hungry. But I forced myself to eat the whole thing. I felt really sick afterwards. "Francis, if I'm forced to stop because I get sick, all the blame is on you."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

I rolled my eyes, then remembered he couldn't see them. "I mean I told you I wasn't hungry. Then I ate. As a result, I feel sick. If I _get_ sick, it's your fault, because you're the one who basically made me eat."

Francis frowned, looking at me. "You didn't have to take it."

I growled softly. "Yeah I did. You wouldn't've shut up if I didn't. And besides... I don't think Hunters eat hotdogs."

His frown deepened. "You're not a Hunter, though."

I growled louder. "I'm not a Hunter? Funny, I thought I was. If I'm not a Hunter, what the fuck am I?"

Francis winced slightly, probably at my cursing. "You're... well... you're the girl I love. That's what you are."

I steeled myself, suddenly feeling like pouncing at him and shaking sense into his thick biker frame. "But I'm still a Hunter. I'm not human. But I'm not them, either." I snarled when he tried to object again. "Francis, just drop it, or I'll drop you."

I winced inwardly, seeing the sudden look of hurt on his face at my threat. I watched and listened for a verbal reaction. There was none. He turned, then put the hotdog down and walked off, outside the safehouse. I took a step after him, then sighed and held my face in my hands. Why did I always do that? Every single time I thought I'd get somewhere with a guy that I liked, who liked me back, I always threw him off because I didn't like to argue, but when it came to it, made it worse. I rubbed my temples through the cloth around my eyes, then walked after Francis, growling softly and picking up his hotdog on the way.

Francis was leaning against a wall, staring at the sun. I frowned as I quietly approached. "Staring at the sun is bad for your eyes."

He jumped, looking back to see who was talking. "Oh... it's you..."

I sighed, cringing. "That hurt... Francis... I'm sorry. I don't like arguing... and when I do argue I make it worse." I closed the distance with a gentle hop, landing next to him. "I know that hurt you, and I'll do anything to make it up... but I just... have to..."

Francis turned and looked at me, then leaned down and kissed me. I gasped slightly; I really wasn't expecting him to kiss me. But I leaned into the kiss before he pulled away. He stroked my cheek gently. "You're too cute. And you're forgiven."

I smiled, then gently and playfully hit him. "Don't call me cute in that manner. I'm not a kitten."

He gathered me up against him, leaning his head on my shoulder. "Are you absolutely sure about that?"

I grinned, and looked up at him. "Yes... I am not a kitten. If anything, I'd be a panther."

He chuckled softly, and kissed my neck. "My little panther."

I smiled, then turned around and kissed him harder. I pushed him back, kissing him passionately, holding his head. Francis kissed me back, holding my waist, holding me to him. "Jayci..." he whispered, kissing me deeply and long, hardly able to stop.

I gripped his shoulders and lifted my knees, holding him with them tightly, gripping his waist and belt with my toes, my claws poking his back slightly. He squeezed my waist gently, and I moaned softly, kissing him feverishly. He moaned softly and gasped for air when our lips parted. "Jayci..." he groaned, reaching up and rubbing my arm.

I kissed him again. "Jayci," he said again, but found himself kissing me back. He held my arm.

"What?" I kissed him, but he pulled back slightly.

"Jayci... Jayci... Jayci!"

"Wha-what?"

Francis sighed and rubbed my arm gently. "We... shouldn't..."

I looked at him and sighed. Francis smiled softly, looking at me. "Trust me... I want to-"

"Then let's... Please?"

He sighed. "Jayci..."

I growled softly, then dropped down, slinging my shotgun. I frowned deeply, and unloaded my pistols, checking the ammo content. Francis sighed, frowning. "Jayci..."

I growled softly, still looking at my pistols. "No, I get it. You don't want me."

Francis frowned deeper, and went to put his hand on my shoulder. "Jayci, that is _not_ why I stopped us, and _you_ know it."

I roughly shrugged him off. "No, I don't know it. And you know what? I don't care! Just forget about it."

Francis put his hand on my shoulder again, and I went to shrug him off, but he grabbed my wrist, angry now. "Damn it, Jayci, stop acting like this. I love you, and you know that, so stop it!"

I jerked on my hand. "Let go of me."

He scowled. "Let go of me now!"

Francis' scowl deepened. "No, I'm not letting go of you until you stop acting like this."

I snarled, then screamed and clawed at him. He shouted in surprise and jerked back, grabbing my hand before I could slash his face. I pushed with my legs, trying to pounce him, but ended up shoving us into the outer wall of the portable. I snapped at him, my teeth clamping shut centimeters shy of his nose, the sound surprisingly loud. He jerked his head back, hitting it on the wall, his eyes wide. "Dammit, Jayci, stop!"

I snarled and leaned my head closer, angry red light filtering through the bandages. "Then fuckin' let go of me."

Francis shook his head again. "I'm not letting go of you until you settle down."

I snarled again, then flexed my arms, brought my feet up, curled my toes, and shoved them deep into his back. He yelled and hit his head against the wall, biting his lip hard and grunting, breathing through gritted teeth. I pulled at my wrists, but he still didn't let go. I shoved my claws in deeper. "Let. Me. Go."

He grunted again, and his grip tightened. "Git yer claws outta my back, and I'll think about it."

I glared at him, then sighed and fell limp, dropping my feet. Francis lowered my hands, and loosened his grip. I dropped, then collapsed, holding my face in my hands, crying. He dropped by me. "Jayci?"

He put his hand on my shoulder. I weakly shrugged him off a few times. "No... no, Jayci..." he said softly, like I was some little kid.

He gently grabbed my wrists as I shrugged him off again. "Jayci, it's okay."

I stopped fighting him off. He pulled me closer, then sat against the portable, pulling me into his lap. He gently pulled the bandaging off, and I cried harder, leaning my head against his chest. I shook my head. "I'm sorry... I am so, so... sorry..."

Francis shushed me, stroking my hair. "No, no, it's okay... it's alright."

Zoey walked out and paused, seeing us. She got Francis' attention. _What happened here?_ she mouthed, pointing at me.

_Emotional problems... infection, probably_, he mouthed back.

Zoey nodded. _Hungry?_

Francis shook his head, and Zoey went back in. He continued shushing me, stroking my hair and rubbing my arm until I quieted. And when I quieted, I went to sleep.

_**I twitched a few times, floating in darkness, in absolute oblivion. Awareness was just coming, dimly, like a breaching star. I heard things, murmurings, voices of far away people, two of them - a man and a woman. I listened absently, warm, my features soft and new. I was here... I was growing.**_

I didn't sleep for very long, and when I woke, I looked up at him. "I'm sorry..."

Francis smiled softly and shook his head. "It's okay."

I frowned, then crawled out of his lap and pushed him away from the building, looking at where I'd dug my claws into him. "No, Francis, it's not alright. Goddammit!"

I flashed back into our room, grabbed the gauze and ran back out. I lifted his shirt and started bandaging him. "How long was I out, Francis?"

He frowned and thought. "Hour, hour and a half, maybe?"

I growled. "And you didn't get yourself fixed up?"

He shrugged. "Wasn't important."

I paused and looked at him. "Francis. It's important. Because you are important... what do you think I'd do if something happened to you?"

He shrugged again. "Move on and find another guy."

I froze and stared at him, hurt and horrified. I moved back, shaking my head. He turned, then quickly stood. "Jayci, I'm sorry, it just slipped out."

I went to jump up, but he lunged forward and caught me, his arms around my gut, holding tightly. I screamed, in anger and pain, a different pain, not my own. I struggled, pushing on his arms, wheeling my legs, shredding his shirt and a lot of his skin. "LET ME GO!"

I put both hands and feet on his chest, then pushed as hard as I could, using every muscle in my whole body behind it. His hold on me broke like it was never there, and he flew back, hitting the wall hard. He grunted and held his head, then collapsed forward, unconscious. I leaped up onto the portable, then threw myself at another roof, landing hard. I curled up and cried, shaking, holding my hands to my gut. It hurt, like he'd crushed something. I screamed, curling up tightly, trying to soothe the burning, cutting pain.

_**Pain! Crushing, squeezing, constricting pain! I twitched again and tried to push against it, for the first time feeling resistance in my blessed warm void. I twitched and started squirming, digging my claws into the resistance, trying to push it away as it attempted to crush me. Suddenly it was gone, the resistance, but there was a flaw in my blackness. Where I'd dug my claws in there were eight pulsing, glowing, bright red marks. I stared, mesmerized, then suddenly felt more pain, but there was no restriction. It was pain that I'd caused... my darkness was hurt. I tried to think of what I could do, and reached for the marks. I felt the soft resistance, then where the resistance ended at the marks, my claws going in. I reached forward and licked the marks. They shrank, then disappeared slowly. I continued until they were all gone. The strange pain ceased. Satisfied, I fell back into my oblivion and curled up, blocking everything, and went to sleep.**_

I shuddered after a while, the pain fading and ceasing. I quickly got up and jumped down to Francis, who was still in the same position as when I'd left. "No, no... Francis!"

He was bleeding badly from where I'd cut him. I quickly grabbed the gauze, tore the remainders of his shirt off, then pulled him up, wrapping his wounds, able to cover both his stomach and back with the amount that I had. I then held him, his head in my lap, until he came to. "Jayci?"

My eyes watering, both from worry and the sun, I nodded. "I'm sorry, Francis... maybe I should leave..."

Francis' eyes widened in horror, and he grabbed my wrist. "NO!" He licked his lips. "No... don't leave... please don't leave."

I nodded and stroked his cheek. He got up, groaning softly, then stumbled. I quickly got up and supported him. "Maybe we should stay..."

Francis shook his head. "No. Don't go playing Mother on me." He grinned. "I'll be fine. Get the others... lets go."

I nodded, then went and got them. We resupplied our personal stores, then headed out.

A month and a half went by without much incident, aside from the zombie apocalypse in general. At times I felt weak and nauseous, but during those times Francis just carried me, me holding the shotgun and shooting for the both of us. Or, more accurately, the _three_ of us.

I pulled Francis aside, and kissed him gently. "Francis... I gotta tell you something. I'm kind of afraid of the reaction... but I have to tell you."

Francis nodded, looking somewhat worried. "Alright..."

I sighed, then looked up at him. "Francis... I'm pregnant."

Francis stared at me, his mouth open, for a long time. I bit my lip, worried he was mad. Then the blank, at-a-total-loss stare broke into a tremendous smile, and he wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tightly. A few tears of relief and joy fell down my cheeks. He lifted me and twirled me, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. He kissed me, deep and hard but gentle still. "This is great news!"

He put me down, looking the happiest I'd ever seen him, and I'd seen a pretty happy Francis when we'd first made love.

I grinned, wiping my eyes. "Really? You're happy?"

He nodded, then kissed and hugged me again. I hugged him back tightly. "Thank god... I thought you'd be mad or something."

He looked at me. "And why would I be mad?"

I shrugged, still smiling. "Some people are... I'm just glad you're not one of those people."

He grinned, then twirled me and pulled me close, behind me now. He put a hand on my stomach and rubbed gently. "How long?"

I looked up at him, and kissed his cheek. "About a month and a half. And we're weird... I've a month and a half to go until she's born."

Francis smiled softly, still gently rubbing my stomach. "A she? You can tell?"

I nodded. "I just know... I don't know how, but I just do."

_**The voices were louder. More familiar... they felt a part of me. The resistance pushed in on me, but I welcomed it this time. It was gentle, loving, almost caressing. It rubbed against me in a circular motion, then stayed still for a while, then continued. I tried to hear what the voices were saying, but the darkness muffled them too much, leaving them just gentle, familiar, safe murmurs. Suddenly, the resistance left, and I twitched, pushing out. I wanted it to come back.**_

I jerked softly, putting a hand to my stomach. "I think she liked that... you rubbing my stomach."

Francis chuckled. "You think?"

I nodded. "Right after you took your hand off she kicked. Almost like she wants it back."

Francis grinned, then put his hand on my stomach again and rubbed gently, kissing my neck. I put my hand on his, holding it gently, rubbing with him. "What should we name her?"

He kissed my neck again, thinking, humming softly. "I think that... we should name her... Caysi. Sounds like yours."

I grinned, looking at him. "Or maybe we should name her Francine?"

Francis started laughing, pausing in the circular rubbing. "N-no, I don't think so... that's /my/ name."

I chuckled, leaning my head against his chest. "Caysi it is."

_**Caysi... I heard that word, and instantly, I knew it was mine. My name, my word. Suddenly, I could make out the voices; a gentle, loving, booming laugh; a smooth, deep, laughing voice; a soft, sweet laugh with an equally soft, sweet voice. I repeated my word: Caysi, Caysi, Caysi... then suddenly, two more words born into existance in my exclusive little world: Jayci; Francis. They weren't uttered, but thought, and instantly in my limited store of knowledge. Jayci... Jayci must be... Jayci could only be my darkness. My darkness' name was Jayci. And Francis... Francis was the gentle, caressing resistance. The resistance that I now found hard to be without. I wanted it all the time... all the time... once I started grasping the concept of numbers, I counted how long I wanted. After the first meeting of me and my Francis... it was forty-two days. My darkness, Jayci, wasn't as dark. The voices weren't muffled at all anymore. And I wanted out. I wanted color, not darkness. And I knew that color was out. And out... was being born.**_


	5. Losing Francis

I gasped and groaned, curling in on myself. Caysi was getting impatient, which hurt. Francis held my shoulders. "Jayci?"

I shook my head, gasping again, and waited for her to calm down. I hardly showed, just a tiny little bump. Louis and Zoey looked like they couldn't have been happier for us. Bill looked at Francis with a sense of pride now. Just a tiny little bump... and the birth was only a few days away. "I'm... I'm fine... she's just active."

Francis nodded. "Do you want me to carry you?"

I shook my head again. "No... I'm fine. Let's go."

Francis looked at me with worry in his eyes, then nodded and helped me straighten up. He supported me for a while as we walked until I shrugged him off. "I can walk, Francis. I'm not crippled or injured... just pregnant."

He sighed. "All the more reason to let me carry you the rest of the way."

I shook my head fiercely. "No. I don't want to be babied... save that for Caysi."

He sighed, but gripped his shotgun, keeping himself from trying to soothe and baby me. I never knew a tough guy like Francis had such a soft spot for pregnant lovers. Maybe it's good I was the first to find out.

_**I wanted out, and I was getting impatient. I pushed and squirmed, fully me, a miniature her. But she wouldn't let me out. I pushed again, harder.**_

I gasped and screamed, dropping and clutching my stomach. Francis was instantly at my side, trying to pick me up. I shrugged and waved him off. "No, Franc... Francis. I'm fine... I'm fine. She just wants out."

He frowned, then quickly hooked his arms around me and lifted me. I growled loudly. "Damn it, Francis, I said I'm fine. Put me down."

He shook his head. "That's not happening. It's obvious you're close, and too much can make it happen too soon. You need to be at a safehouse, or, even better, evacced, before you give birth."

I glared at his logic, then sighed and leaned my head against his chest. "Fine... just gimme my shotgun so I can shoot."

Francis frowned. I looked at him, surprised. "Okay, Francis, I'm letting you carry me. There is no way in this whole entire fuckin' world that you're going to take shooting away, too."

Francis sighed, then nodded. "Fine..."

He stooped, and I reached down and grabbed my shotgun. "Thank you, love."

I kissed his cheek gently, then laid back down in his arms, holding the shotgun. He smiled, shaking his head softly. "I don't think there's another woman like you on the entire planet. Or in the Universe."

I grinned. "Good. Only I can be me."

Francis chuckled softly. "Yes... only you can be you."

I kissed him gently, and we started moving. Several times Francis made everyone stop because Caysi wouldn't stop moving; wouldn't stop causing pain. But I made him continue until we hit the next and last safehouse. Unfortunately, by then, it was just me and him. The others had been scattered by a Tank... they were together somewhere else, we were together here. We slept in the safehouse - Caysi was quiet, fortunately - and then set out the next day, both of us walking. Suddenly, I stopped. Francis looked at me. "What?"

I frowned. "Sh!"

I listened hard, then sighed softly. "Witch up ahead... keep going. I'll see if I can... pacify her."

He nodded, frowning deeply, and I set for searching for the Witch. It wasn't long before I found her, sitting in a dark room, all alone, crying her little teeny-bopper heart out. "Hey," I said softly, slowly crawling in.

She jerked her head up and gasped, but didn't make any motion to attack. I slowly crawled forward, shushing her softly, soothing her. "Hey, it's okay... it's okay..."

She looked at me as I crawled forward, then stood some. I paused, frightened, hoping she wouldn't decide to attack. I was a bit surprised when she walked over and fell against me, crying into my chest. I lowered a knee, supporting myself, and comforted her. Her crying softened. Suddenly, she gasped and started growling, looking at the door. I frowned, then looked as well. I saw a light. "Jayci?"

I froze. A light was coming down the hall, a flashlight, at a high level. I cursed and tried to shush the Witch, covering her eyes, holding her. Then he came. Francis stood in the doorway, and shined the flashlight in. He hit the Witch with the beam, and she screamed, infuriated. "DAMN IT FRANCIS!"

Francis turned and ran as the Witch chased him. He turned and started shooting. I ran after the Witch, then jumped at her, hooking one arm over her shoulder and around her neck, the other arm under hers and around her stomach. I then braced my legs, and lifted. She started struggling, trying to slash me, to get after Francis. She then jerked her head back, hitting me square in the nose. I grunted as blood spurted, and reflexively let go to nurse it. She started running after Francis again. I cursed at myself and jumped after her, just barely missing. She slashed at Francis as she neared, missed, then hit him as she swung her arm back in the opposite direction. He twirled once and fell, the breath knocked out of him. She stopped, looking down at him, then raised her arms to slash.

I stood, sucked in a deep breath, and screamed. The Witch turned and gasped, staring at me. I launched myself at her, pissed off, and hit her as she went to slash. I flipped us, then pushed off again, slamming her into a building. She screamed and slammed her claw into my head. I blacked for a second, and we fell, her landing on top of me.

Francis jerked, grabbing his shotgun and getting up. He ran over and pointed it at her, pressing it against her face. She looked up at him, then growled and screamed. He fired, the barrel in her mouth, her head blasting off.

I gasped, coming to, and moaned, holding my stomach. Francis dropped by my side worriedly. "Jayci? Are you okay? Please tell me you're okay."

I nodded, but groaned softly, holding my stomach still. Francis dug his arms under me and lifted me up, cradling me to his chest.

_**I kicked and pushed, throbbing. I was hurting, but I couldn't tell from what. I know that at one point I was safe, but that Jayci was moving. Suddenly it was as if someone had punched her with their whole body, in the gut. I pushed again, trying to stop the pain. I knew Jayci, Mom, hurt... I knew that she knew I hurt. I could hear her worry; her heart pounded. I stopped pushing and kicking, and started moving gently, trying to soothe my Jayci.**_

I groaned and pressed my head against Francis, my claws on the little bump of my stomach. _My god, _I thought. _Please let her be okay... please let my Caysi be okay..._ I stroked my stomach, the closest I could get to her right now, and somehow, I knew she was doing something of the same for me. I suddenly wanted to hold her, in my arms. I wanted to see who she more closely resembled. But I also had to wait.

Francis sighed, then reached down and picked his shotgun up, gently lying it across my stomach. I quickly picked it up and moved it off, frowning. He started walking. "Evac's not far, love... we're almost there."

He tried to smile reassuringly, but he failed. He bit his lip and continued walking.

He carried me for another two hours, then paused. I was asleep in his arms, my claws on my stomach. He saw soldiers, unInfected soldiers, which meant... evac. "Jayci. C'mon, wake up."

I opened my eyes, blinking rapidly, then covered them, crying out softly. The soldiers turned their heads, hearing me. "Evac?"

Francis nodded, and they hurried him over. He set me down, and I stumbled into him, holding my head. I was having a nausea attack again. One of the soldiers noticed my gut, and came over to support me. "'Ere ya go, miss."

I smiled, then grabbed his arm as I threatened to teeter off to the side. He then saw my claws, and his eyes widened. He looked at me, then my eyes; my muscles on twig-thin limbs; my clawed toes. He shouted and jerked his arm away, leveling his weapon, pointing it at me. The other soldiers quickly looked me over, and leveled their's as well.

Francis frowned, and wrapped and arm around me, pulling me close to him. I gripped his shoulder gently, looking out at them fearfully. He gripped his shotgun. "What's the meaning of this? What's with the pointing of your guns at her?"

One of the soldiers came forward and grabbed his arm, trying to tug him away. "She's Infected, sir! Now move so we can deal with it!"

Francis scowled, and shoved him back, still holding me close, his shotgun leveled to fire. "I know very well she's Infected. She's also carrying my child. Now git yer goddamn guns pointed off her, and call for evac!"

One of the younger Marines' eyes widened. "You fucked a Hunter?"

Francis pointed his shotgun at his face. "That's none of your business."

Someone fired their gun into the air. "Screw this. I'll kill her _in_ his arms."

He pointed the M16 at me. I gripped Francis tighter and squeezed my eyes shut. Suddenly, I wasn't holding onto Francis anymore. I opened my eyes. He was literally beating the soldier who'd said he'd kill me, punching, kicking, and meleeing with the shotgun. The other soldiers went to get him off, momentarily forgetting about me. He finished the one soldier, then threw his gun backwards, his arm hitting one in the face, the gun hitting another. They stumbled back.

"Francis!" I shrieked, watching the original soldier stand and raise his gun.

Francis looked at me, then turned. The soldier brought the butt of the gun down on his forehead. I heard a sickening _thunk! _and Francis fell, his face a big bloody mess. I screamed in horror and scrambled forward, dropping next to him. I put my hands on his forehead, putting pressure, trying to stop the bleeding. There was so much blood, and his face was already so pale. "Francis!" I cried, still trying to stop the blood-flow. "Francis... please..._ please_ be okay. You gotta wake up... you gotta be here when your daughter's born!"

I felt arms wrap around me, and I shrieked. "No! No! I can't leave him! Please no!"

I struggled, reaching for his bleeding form. That was when I broke. My heart shattered into a thousand pieces. Francis, my love... there was no way he could survive that much blood loss. His face was a sickly pasty white where the blood didn't stain. Other soldiers were now trying to help, pressing cloth against it. "Let me go! Let me go! I need to be with him!"

I turned in the arms holding me, moved his head, and sank my teeth into his throat. He dropped, letting go of me. I didn't kill him. I scrambled back over to Francis and put my claws over the wounds, my face, neck, hands, and forearms covered in blood. But the Marines shoved me away. One grabbed Francis' shotgun, turned, and fired at me twice. The first blast caught my arm and threw me sideways, saving me from the second. I screamed in pain, and the Hunter part of my brain took over. I jumped and ran away.

I never saw him again.


	6. Missing Jayci

Francis groaned softly, and slowly opened his eyes. He grunted and shut them, raising a hand to block the light, and slowly blinked himself awake. The first thing he noticed was that he didn't know where he was. This wasn't a safehouse, or anywhere he'd been. The walls were a hard, unfriendly dark gray, the floor was black. He groaned and tried to sit up, but felt something stopping him. He looked down and saw hands; deep chocolate hands. He followed the hand to its arm, then the arm to its shoulder, and the shoulder to the head. "Wh-who are..."

The person shook their head. "No talking. Lay down."

Francis shrugged him off, then sat up. He got a severe case of nausea and dizziness, and held his head, supporting himself with his arm until it went away. "Where am I?" he grunted, surprised at how hoarse his voice was. "Who are you?"

The person sighed, and lowered his mask, looking at him. "I'm Dr. Joseph Statham. You're in the medical bay of an aircraft carrier in the Gulf of Mexico. You were flown in a few days ago with a rather nasty head-wound that they wouldn't explain. You've been out of it since then... calling for Jayci..."

Francis frowned. "Jayci?"

Joseph nodded sadly. "Yes, you were calling for Jayci."

Francis' frown deepened as he looked around and noticed they were the only two people in the room. "And Jayci? Where is she? In a room? She should've been flown in with me."

Joseph shrugged. "No, I... I checked. You were the only person brought in..."

Francis stared at him, tears forming. "That's cruel. It's not nice to play those sort of jokes on people. Now where is she?"

Joseph shook his head and shrugged again, tears forming in his eyes, one blue, the other solid white. "I truly am sorry. No joke. You were the only person on the chopper. Jayci, God help her, was left behind..."

The biker paused, listening to the doctor, frowning. "Did... did you know Jayci before, Statham?"

Joseph nodded. "Yes... I knew her. I knew her very well, and intimately. I used to be a college professor, and she had one of my classes... um... She and I had a son together." He paused. "It was the soldiers who ended him... at the age of three... and it was the soldiers who most likely ended Jayci..."

Francis scowled deeply, a sudden rage building up inside him, fire in his eyes. "If I get my hands on those goddamn soldiers, I'll rip them to pieces!"

He pushed himself up, tore everything attached to him off, and stormed out, Joseph trailing him and telling him to get back on the bed. Francis walked quickly through the hallways, searching for the soldier who had caused the head injury. It wasn't very long before he found him... or rather, they found each other.

The soldier stopped, holding a shotgun. Francis immediately recognized it as his. He scowled and started walking towards him, fisting his hands, growling. The soldier looked at him. "I remember you. Can I help you?"

Francis reached him, then pulled his arm back and let a punch fly, catching the soldier in the nose, punching at full force. The soldier stumbled back a couple feet and fell, his nose and mouth a bloody mess. Francis walked over, knelt, and grabbed the neck of the soldier's shirt, hoisting him up. He stuck his face into the soldier's. "Yeah, you can help me. You can tell me," _**punch! **_"Why you didn't," _**punch! **_"Take my pregnant love," _**punch! **_"With us!"

The soldier stumbled back and fell, his face bruised, his nose obviously broken, skewed off at an odd angle. "We didn't take the Infected slut with us because, as we said before, _**she's infected!**_"

Francis froze. "What did you just call her?"

The soldier stood, smirking, spitting out a broken tooth. "That's right, you punch-happy son-of-a-bitch. I called that Infected _thing_ what she is: a slut. Any woman, Infected or not, carrying your child during _these _times is a slut. Nothing but a slut."

Francis growled, then roared in anger and threw himself at the soldier, hitting him hard, crushing his chest between his shoulder and the wall. As the soldier tried to breathe, Francis started punching again, every thrown fist finding a mark. Francis' knuckles started bleeding. The soldier tried to fight back, and managed to block one hit and get one of his own in. Francis threw a kick at his crotch and hit. The soldier cried out and collapsed. Francis went with him, straddled him, and continued punching. The soldier reached down, grabbed his knife, and stuck Francis in the leg with it.

Francis shouted in pain, then punched his arm, giving him a dead arm. He let go of the knife. Francis grabbed it, and looked at it, then shoved it into the soldier's stomach. He gasped, his eyes bugging. Francis tore the knife out, then threw it to the side. He reached down and dug his fingers into the wound. The soldier screamed and grabbed his arm, trying to pull it back. Francis bit his lip and shoved harder. He heard a sickening rip and watched as the skin tore open to allow his fingers passage. The soldier's scream got louder, but oddly, no one came to help. He shoved his hand deeper, watching with fascination as the skin tore more and the blood welled around his hand. The soldier howled and struggled, his protests growing weaker. Francis felt his hand hit something slippery, then dug his fingers in and jerked up. He'd grabbed some bloated organ... stomach? He frowned. "I want the spine, dammit!"

He pushed harder, and tore a few more innards out, the soldier still alive but barely. He watched as Francis worked towards his spine, pulling glistening tubes of intestines out of his body. Suddenly, then world went black.

Francis gripped the spine hard, and tugged again, feeling it give a little more. The body jerked. He knew he was dead, but it wouldn't be even until his spine - even just a chunk of it - was on the floor. He looked at the dead soldier's face. "This is payback for Jayci, asshole. You _never_ call my girl a slut if you know what's good for you."

He jerked his hand up. He heard two snaps, and pulled his hand out of the fleshy hole. A long bone followed him. It then stopped, still attached at the pelvis. He tugged again, and it snapped. He laid it next to his body, then got up, his arm covered in blood and other bodily fluids. He then turned and walked away. Jayci's revenge had been dealt, his anger was cooled, and his head hurt like hell. He walked back to where he'd started, went to the sink, then started washing his arm. Joseph stared at him. "What the hell did you do?"

Francis looked at him. "Not much. Walked around... found who I was looking for, completely disemboweled a guy and finished it by tearing his spine out..."

Joseph stared at him in horror. "I could have you killed for that, you know..."

Francis scowled, and looked at him again. "Listen. Because of that selfish, Infectiphobic bastard, I will never see my daughter, or my love. I won't be there when she grows up. I won't have any more. He deserved worse than what I did to him. Far worse."

Joseph gulped, and nodded, holding something behind his back. "O-okay, whatever you say. Please don't kill me..."

Francis frowned softly, then turned to look at him, confused. The doctor lunged forward and stuck a needle in his neck, injecting the contents. Francis stumbled, clutching the needle and pulling it out. He looked at it, at Joseph, then collapsed.

Joseph called in soldiers, told them what happened, and told them that he did so only because the head wound caused brain damage. The soldiers frowned, then hoisted him up on the bed, re-hooking everything back into him.

Francis woke a few hours later, feeling weird and lightheaded. He groaned and sat up, then sighed. He remembered what he'd gotten up to do, remembered why he did it, and held his face in his hands, crying into them. He cried for a while, then stopped, like a passing storm. He ran his fingers along the seam of his vest, and frowned. There was a hole. He stuck a finger in, and felt something. He slid another in, gripped it, and pulled it out. It was a tightly folded piece of paper. He unfolded it, then choked and started crying again, putting a hand to his mouth.

On the paper was a well-drawn picture of him and Jayci kissing, almost like someone had taken a photo of them, then transferred it to pencil-on-paper. Jayci had signed it, saying 'Together forever, Love' with a heart. In the corner was a flawless hand print of a baby. That started the waterworks harder. He stroked the drawing gently, sniffling. "I'm sorry, Jayci," he said softly. "I wish I could've protected you and our Caysi better..."

He put two fingers to his lips, then lowered them and pressed them against the Jayci in the drawing. He reached in to put it away, back in the hole in his vest, then felt something else. He put the drawing in his lap, then fished the other thing out. It was folded as well. He unfolded it, and the tears fell harder, but still quietly. This was an actual photo of them, a close-up. Jayci was smiling, her bandage off, her beautiful sky-blue eyes sparkling, her smile beaming. Nonetheless, it was dull and painful; not really there, only a teasing reminder of what they'd taken from him. He looked at himself. He was a completely different man... he looked like he didn't have a care in the world: a big smile on his lips, light in his eyes. He looked nothing like the intimidating biker he'd started as.

He ran his hand over his face, then lifted the photo and kissed Jayci. He folded them back up carefully, and slipped them back into the hole in his vest. He then laid down, and cried quietly for a while. He then put himself to sleep, and thanked the dark blankness that followed. REM - no Jayci.


	7. Welcome Caysi

I waited five minutes, crying and verbally beating myself up. I saw and heard the helicopter roar over me, so I headed back as quickly as I could. Maybe, somehow, all the blood I'd seen wasn't a lethal amount. I got there, and looked around, noticing the large pool of blood. But the scene was missing one very important thing: Francis. I looked around frantically, even in the crappy lean-to. But I couldn't find him. "Francis?" I jumped back to the blood pool, then noticed a smear, indicating that he'd been lifted. "FRANCIS!"

I jumped onto the lean-to, then onto a building. I could still see the helicopter. I started running and jumping after it. His scent strengthened. I reached it, somehow, and was almost able to grab the skid. But I missed, fell, and hooked my claws into a pole, sliding down to the ground. I screamed weakly, then collapsed, crying hard. I couldn't believe it. I'd been such a fucking coward, and run, and they'd _taken_ him. _They took my Francis._ I screamed weakly again, and sandwiched my head between my arms, curling up. Caysi kicked, wanting Francis' touch. But I couldn't give her his; only mine. She obviously wasn't happy about that, and kept kicking where my hand touched until I removed it. She kicked weakly a few times, then fell still. She knew he was gone.

I started crying harder. I laid next to that pole for hours, staring at my hands. His blood on my claws was all I had left of him, except for Caysi. And I was sure that, if she could, she'd be mourning too. She was aware of him; she knew the differences of our touch, our voices. Now she recognized the fact that he was gone, and not coming back. I stroked my stomach again, ignoring her protests. "I'm sorry, baby... Mommy fucked up and got Daddy killed."

She kicked hard, and I screamed, curling in on myself. I started crying even harder - I'd just lost my love, and now my unborn daughter was mad at me, for losing my love. It broke me - my heart, my sanity, my being. The world went black, and I was at peace.

_**I trembled with rage, mad at my Jayci. She got my Francis killed. I knew what that meant, and I didn't like it. I also knew that something bad happened after I kicked her, because a few seconds later, her heart stopped for a few beats. Five. Then it started again, but it was oddly slow. Slower than sleep. I didn't like it... I knew it was bad. But I couldn't do a thing about it.**_

That state held me captive for a total of two days. Slowly my body healed itself; slowly my heart hardened. From now on, Caysi would be the only being I'd ever get close to. The pain of losing Francis was too much.

I gasped when I woke. Caysi was restless. Restless and pushing. I'd been out two days... thank god I hadn't given birth then. But now was the time. I dragged myself to my feet, and threw myself at a building, hitting hard. I broke a window and climbed in. I looked around, and felt Caysi complain again. I gasped and fell to my knees, holding my stomach. I dragged myself over to a pile of blankets in a corner, then laid in them, gasping and breathing hard. It hurt, and Caysi wasn't helping. Habitually, my hand searched for Francis', only causing more pain as I remembered he wasn't there to hold it. I started crying again, in pain and loss.

Suddenly, someone grabbed my hand. I gasped and growled, looking over, and froze. A Hunter had his claw around mine. His eyes were soft and reassuring, the irises red. His face was young and somewhat handsome, his smile charming, his features soft. I stared at him, and he blinked. "It's okay," he said softly. "I'm not going to hurt you... only help."

I blinked a few times, then nodded. Caysi, as if knowing what was going on, started complaining again.

The whole ordeal took about thirty minutes. Painfully, but quickly, thank god. That Hunter was there the whole time, helping, his hand withstanding my crushing grasp. Suddenly, I heard crying, and fell limp, exhausted. The Hunter let go, then slid his hoodie off and crawled down. He cleaned something, tore the dark blue cloth, then wrapped that something in the clean part. He then crawled up and laid it on my chest. It was Caysi. I pulled myself up, and the Hunter bunched blankets behind me. I held Caysi in my arms. She cooed softly, looking at me.

She had my eyes. And claws. She was already looking defined, and older than newborn. Then I remembered she'd developed three times as fast. I smiled. She had Francis' strong jaw, and his nose. And the hair that already grew on her head grew in a defined widow's peak. I stroked her head, and she smiled. She yawned, showing surprisingly sharp teeth, then closed her mouth and eyes, going to sleep.

I rocked her gently, pain coming from the resemblance of Francis, but also comfort. I hummed softly. "It's okay, baby... Mommy's got you. And I won't let anything happen to you."


End file.
